


A moment to breathe

by Lokisbur



Series: In Purgatory's Shadow and By Inferno's Light [1]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Dissociation, Enabran death, Episode: s05e14 In Purgatory's Shadow, M/M, they're still pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:13:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27449938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lokisbur/pseuds/Lokisbur
Summary: After Enabran's death, Garak need some time.
Relationships: Garashir
Series: In Purgatory's Shadow and By Inferno's Light [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2005534
Kudos: 19





	A moment to breathe

He was dead. Enabran Tain laid on the bed, dead. Garak stared at him for a while, incapable of removing his gaze from his mentor's, no, his father's, face. He asked him to talk to him, at least one time, as a father would to his son, and the old cardassian did - or at least as good as he could, given the fact he never ever acted as such. The cardassian spy stayed like that, standing up and looking into the eyes of the dead one, not noticing the movements behind him. Then he felt a hand onto his arm. 

"Garak?" 

He bolted a bit and moved quickly to cover Tain's face with the cover. 

"I didn't look nor saw his face, don't worry." said the voice again. 

The cardassian had difficulties to know exactly where and who it was coming from, but what he knew was that this voice calmed him. This voice was one he wanted to hear again and again, never to stop. He didn't want to think about his "father", only about this soothing and nice voice. 

The hand touched his arm again, but this time it actually held onto it and tried to move him towards the door. He let himself be guided, not really sure of the outcome, but the voice was telling him to go and so he did. He noticed the door opening and suddenly stopped. He had to say something. There was something he wanted to tell, but he needed time to remember. He tried to think about the voice for a second and then " _ I didn't look nor saw his face".  _ That was it. The face. He turned back, looking at the body in the far corner of the room. 

"If you could please avoid looking at the face, it will be most pleasing. It is in cardassian beliefs that the dead must have their eyes open and that none other than cardassians have the right to look at them." he said, pausing for a moment. "Well, the Jem'Hadar might not care about that anyway." 

"We will honour your dead, Mr Garak. No one will look, not even the Jem'Hadar." said Worf. 

The cardassian in question simply nodded and let himself be pulled away once again. 

He didn't know how he got out of the room, nor where they were walking but he could feel a hand in the crook of his back, warm, steady and when he turned he looked at the person to whom it belonged. The man was a beauty and really, he should let his hair grow, maybe even his beard too. 

"Garak?" asked the man

The cardassian noticed he had stopped and was staring, but had no idea about when he did that. He however couldn't stop looking at the man, as the voice he held onto dearly, was coming from him. 

"Garak are you okay?" reiterated the man. 

"I… I think I am, doctor." 

"Garak, I'm sorry, I know you're not, it's just that…" the man looked at the floor and bit his lower lip. "I'm worried about you and we still have to go through some tough times to get out of here." 

Garak didn't say anything, he just wanted the voice to keep talking, to bring music to his ears. But the worry in his eyes and on his face started to make him feel something, what exactly? He didn't know. But what was sure is that he didn't wanted to see such a look on this specific face. 

"Garak, if you want to say something about what just happened, or about anything else that could help you-" started again Bashir. 

"My  _ dear _ doctor Bashir, I believe that now isn't quite the time for some therapy sessions, but more for some escape plan. So I think we should get back to the others and try to work on one." 

He tried to give his best smile, but if the man knew Garak as much as Garak knew  _ him _ , he could see through it easily. But the man didn't say anything and instead tiredly smiled back at him, squeezing his arm twice. He then placed his hand where it was moments before. 

Garak could never be grateful enough for what he was doing, or at least trying to do, and so he followed him towards their room, ready to think about a plan. The hand on his back bringing warmth in the cold place he physically and psychologically was stuck in. 


End file.
